


if it brings me to my knees

by doubtthestars



Series: young volcanoes(mind reader fic) [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Footy Ficathon, Gen, M/M, Religious Content, be gentle this is my first foray into the ship, loosely cuz lets face it i dont know shit, mind readers!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-01-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doubtthestars/pseuds/doubtthestars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is easy to map out his life and find the intersections between him and Mesut and he knows like the sun sets in the west, that he will always be watching Mesut make new paths to different land. If he chooses to go, it will not be because of some unspoken need.</p><p>Sami treads lightly when it comes to Mesut and his thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	if it brings me to my knees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apollothyme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollothyme/gifts).



He hears the prayers every morning and night.

It is never repetitious because it is the only thing he's heard since he was nine and Sami can't sleep without Mesut's voice.

The thing about their link is that it was offset, it didn't start until Mesut had gotten a nasty knock on the head that saw him to the hospital when he was a child. Sami was all eager bright to have a new friend even if they couldn't play together or race cars on his new track but Mesut was wary and by the time they had met in person, Sami understood why.

Sweden is a dream but he holds the secret of their connection close to his chest, so close it feels like a second skin that won't let him breathe late at night.

Mesut fasts for so long after they shake hands, Sami feels food stick in his throat as if his body rejected it on principle.

***

Lena is his best friend through it all. She lounges easily on the couch like models do and Sami pulls her legs onto his lap to make space for himself. They are watching some new Bollywood movie that she had gotten from a friend.

"Ugh, seriously, I'm trying to watch if he's going to go back to the airport and you are killing my vibe, Sami." He shrugs and stares at the screen blankly. They met up the best they could, with her being a model and him a football player and his instagram was littered with pictures of them goofing around, but it didn't take long for his thoughts to turn to Mesut in the abstract way he had taught himself to.

He didn't want anything to bleed into the link.

"Sometimes, I wish you were in love with me." She says quietly, holding his hand and Sami doesn't know what to do besides squeeze it.

Love was like the stars and Sami couldn't look away from the sun enough to care for constellations. Lena was the north star but Mesut was _everything_.

"Me too." It would be easier at least.

***

They are in a different city with different sounds in their ears and Mesut is brilliant.

He always has been and Sami tells him that more often than not through the connection. Those are his prayers, in secret and only heard by one person.

And he tries to not be besotted or bitter, but Sergio hugs him sometimes when he stares for too long and Cris is Cris, half forcing Mesut out of his comfort zone for his benefit and equally for his amusement. There are forced into close quarters and on trips and pictures, and Sami doesn't know what to say so he says nothing at all.

He thanks whatever star granted them that time together, because they are getting better at lying to themselves and it doesn't hurt as bad as he thought.

"You're not happy with this, are you?" Sami asks through Skype and Mesut's pixelated face is pinched with irritation. Sami feels bad but then he got over it, because this is important. Andre had told him and he thought, he thought they were better friends than that.

"I heard you were thinking of Arsenal through Andre." Mesut deflates and shrugs.

"I am. I don't--I think it's time for me to try English soil." is all he says and Sami reads between the lines.

***

As the farewell party is in full-swing, Sami gets steadily drunker.

He pushes Mesut into Iker's guest room and stares for a sobering while, just stares and Mesut turns red because he is unsure of attention. He is unsure with Sami's devotion.

Sami doesn't move to do anything but hold his hand.

He held his hand like he was going to float away at any moment and his hand was his tether, his anchor to the ground.

There are hoots outside the door and Sami kisses his hand once, barely grazing, with the wine on his tongue interfering with the smell of his skin.

"Please," Mesut closes his eyes.

Sami lets go. This is good enough for goodbye. This will last him.

Mesut unlocks the door and goes back to the party. Sami falls back onto the bed and curls up like a child. He will be on a plane before Sami wakes up the next day.

He wishes he were enough to make him happy.

***

"Lukas tells me you're thinking of coming to London." It is after the world cup and Sami's headlines all contain Arsenal, arsenal, arsenal.

Sami laughs.

"Yes, Lukas is trying very hard to convince me." Sami isn't really sure where the world will take him.

It is easy to map out his life and find the intersections between him and Mesut and he knows like the sun sets in the west, that he will always be watching Mesut make new paths to different land. If he chooses to go, it will not be because of some unspoken need. 

He is happy in Madrid for now. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> edit: this isnt half bad for my first samisut.


End file.
